


The Sleeping Habits of Certain Hobbits

by apple_pi



Category: The Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: First Time, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-03-31
Updated: 2005-03-31
Packaged: 2018-07-22 05:00:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7420915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/apple_pi/pseuds/apple_pi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One day Elijah announces that Dom and Billy are sleeping together. Sure enough, the two hobbits are fast asleep, resting against one another and the set wall, snoring softly. Billy's head has fallen back against the polyfoam and Dom's is lying at a crick-inducing angle on Billy's shoulder.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Sleeping Habits of Certain Hobbits

One day Elijah announces that Dom and Billy are sleeping together.

Sure enough, the two hobbits are fast asleep, resting against one another and the set wall, snoring softly. Billy's head has fallen back against the polyfoam and Dom's is lying at a crick-inducing angle on Billy's shoulder.

Sean (Bean) thinks they're cute. He also can't resist fucking with them, so he leans over and says loudly "Marks!"

The results are semi-pleasing - there's no flailing, no leaping up, but both men do sit up alertly, blinking and snuffling and trying to look as though they weren't dreaming two seconds ago. A survey of Bean's smirk and Elijah's grin tells them all they need to know.

"Fuckers," Billy says with his mouth and Dom with his eyes, and then they settle back again, shoulders bumping, lids shut, hands peaceful in their respective laps.

~*~

One day they race one another to the trailer for a nap when Pete calls a halt for some technical screw-up or other. "Sofa!" Dom shrieks, but Billy's faster and he crashes onto the cushions a split second before Dom, then grunts as Dom's momentum catapults him into Billy's stomach.

"Fuck!" Billy gasps, rubbing his abdomen and glaring.

"Sorry." Dom scoots slightly so that all his weight isn't actually on Billy's solar plexus. "But I really need a nap - you know I usually let you have the settee but I reeeeeally need a nap!"

It's true - Billy sleeps more on set than Dom, but the past weeks have been so grueling that Dom is getting just as desperate as everyone else for any moments of unconsciousness he can garner. Billy doesn't want to give up the couch though, as relinquishment would mean sleeping in a make-up chair. "I got here first," he states. "Bollocks for you."

"Billeeee…" Dom flutters his lashes and looks pathetic.

"Dominic." Billy holds his glare for another minute and then ruins it with a yawn. "Oh, fine. Fecking pansy." He reclines and presses himself against the back of the sofa. "C'mon, then, lie down. We'll share."

Dom doesn't question this, just stretches out with his back to Billy's front and sighs happily.

Billy complains about the Merry wig getting in his mouth, and Dom smooths it down, and they fall asleep with Billy's knees bent into the crook of Dom's and Billy's arm over Dom's waist.

The other hobbits and wizard get used to finding them that way. Sean (Astin) and Elijah take the piss; Ian exhales gently and shakes his head, smiling.

~*~

One night Dom falls asleep on the floor at Billy's house. Orlando's already snoring on the couch, and Elijah and Sean (Astin, again) have ceased squabbling over the guest bed and grudgingly agreed to share. (The last audible words are from Sean: "If you start farting in your sleep I'm kicking your Frodo ass out to sleep in the tub.")

Billy's the last one awake, and he sways gently as he looks down at Dom's sprawled body.

"Get up," he says, louder than he means to, and winces. Slowly goes to his knees and bends over Dom. "Get up, you can't sleep on the floor. You can share with me." Dom rolls over and snorts.

Billy kneels by him for a minute and scratches his chin, wondering if the amount of liquor he has imbibed will allow him to successfully carry ten stone of passed-out hobbit to his bedroom. He decides it probably will, and as Dom will be the one to pay if he's wrong, it's a hypothesis worthy of testing.

Ten minutes later Dom's on the bed and under the duvet, and Billy has his eyes closed beside him, waiting for the room to stop spinning so he can sleep.

~*~

One night Dom and Billy are running scenes at Dom's house and Billy begins yawning at nine p.m. Dom starts yawning, too, and grabs Billy's hand, towing him toward the back of the house.

"Where're we going?" Billy asks. "We still have two more pages to look at."

"Let's go to sleep." Dom pulls them both into his bedroom and then lets go of Billy to start undressing.

"But -"

"Oh, to hell with the script." Dom's naked, but he turns to his bureau and digs for pyjamas, pulling on a pair of tattered track bottoms. "You know we'll get there tomorrow and they'll have changed the whole thing, anyway. Merry and Pippin will be made into Elves or something."

Billy puts his script pages carefully on the night table and pulls off his jeans and t-shirt, keeping socks and pants on. "True. Or maybe orcs." He sits on the mattress and then yawns again and stretches out, feet pushing under the duvet which lies wrinkled at the bottom of the bed.

Dom clambers in and over Billy, shoving him roughly aside. 

"What're you doing?" Faint protest, though; Billy's eyes are already sinking shut.

Dom pulls the duvet over them both and settles with his back to Billy. "You were on my side of the bed." He sighs. "Orcs would be cool. I wanna be an orc."

"Maybe…" Billy's voice trails off into sleep.

~*~

One night Dom leans over the table at a pub and grabs the back of Billy's head and kisses him, on a bet from Viggo, of all people. They make it good, a real lip-smacker, and then turn laughing to Viggo with their palms up, waiting for payment. He grins and slaps five New Zealand dollars into each hand and the evening goes on. Neither Billy nor Dom refers back to the kiss.

Viggo says he'll give the two of them a ride to Billy's house, next-door to his, and they thank him easily. But inside, Viggo gone, lights off and exhaustion pulling at their very bones, both men are silent and slightly off, and when Dom offers to sleep on the couch, Billy agrees.

Billy wakes up in the middle of the night because Dom is poking him in the shoulder. "Nnh," Billy says.

"Can I sleep in here?" Dom's whisper is slurred and Billy can see that he's shivering, holding the blanket from the sofa around himself.

"Yeah." Billy closes his eyes and goes back to sleep quickly, Dom's back curving against and away from his own.

~*~

In the morning Billy wakes up with the sour taste of scotch painted across his tongue and his arm pinned to his side by Dom's. Dom is snug against his back, breathing softly against his neck, and Billy wants to stay where he is and try to sleep out the hangover, but he has to piss desperately.

He lies still for a long time, hoping his bladder will adjust and let him sleep, but it won't. When he feels Dom stir in his sleep and press slightly closer, he moves faster to get out of bed, because Dom is getting morning wood, and though it's happened before and Billy has teased him before, for some reason it's unsettling this morning.

So Billy gets up - glances back to see Dom frown in his sleep and then push his face into Billy's empty pillow - and pads to the toilet.

He pees and stares at himself in the mirror for a while, not really thinking. Notices his own morning erection and reaches down to rub it lightly through his boxers.

Water sounds good, so Billy fills the bathroom glass and empties it a couple of times, then locks the bathroom door and turns on the shower. Inside the steamy stall he pulls on his cock a few more times, water pouring over his back and shoulders, and closes his eyes to stroke himself better. Not really thinking about anything, just the way the water feels on his skin, how good his fingers feel gripping lightly and then tight, speeding and then slowing his hand until he's close. Billy's face hardens slightly only to go absent and soft; a small crease appears between his brows as his hand works hard and fast toward the end. He comes with a shallow gasp, his back curving over a bit and shoulders hunching as his thighs tighten and then, slowly, relax.

"What the fuck…" he mutters a moment later, blinking his eyes open and rubbing the water from his lashes. Although he goes about his ablutions efficiently enough, his face is puzzled for the next seven minutes as he shampoos and then conditions his hair, soaps himself reasonably thoroughly and then rinses everything, watching the bubbles and cloudy water swirl down the drain between his feet. The expression only smooths away when he pads into the bedroom fully dressed and throws his wet towel at Dom's head.

~*~

One night Dom wakes up with a hard-on and his hand already at work on it inside his shorts, a dream (there were dolphins, and trees, and Billy was in it but so was Miranda) fading from his memory. Billy is snoring gently beside him, so Dom curls away from him and finishes the job, pulling his cock from his pants and keeping the movement confined to his hand and forearm instead of pushing his hips forward into his fist like he usually likes to. He comes with a soft sigh, onto and into his hands. Shuffles to the bathroom to clean himself up and wonders why he didn't come in here to do the actual wanking. Sighs and yawns and scratches his head and goes back to bed.

Billy's still snoring. Dom snuggles up to him and drifts off.

~*~

One night when Dom falls asleep on his couch, Billy keeps reading his book until he hears Dom murmur. Dom talks in his sleep sometimes, and Billy thinks it's funny. He looks up from his paperback this time, thinking Dom has spoken to him.

"What?"

Dom shifts and turns onto his back, mouth moving slightly, eyelids shut tight like Elijah's never do ("It's just grotesque," Billy has remarked about Elijah's weird eye-sleeping-thing more than once, and he's quite sincere) and red lines etched into the skin of his chest where he lay against the cushions a moment ago.

"Do tell," Billy mutters, and looks back at his page.

Dom murmurs again, and then again, and Billy puts the book aside and goes to crouch by Dom's head, listening. The room is dim, Billy's reading lamp casting a narrow puddle of light, this area dimmer, darker, shadowy. Billy's knees creak as he kneels, waiting.

"Nnn," Dom says. Billy shudders slightly as he watches the younger man's eyelids move with his dreams. Another creepy habit of the sleep-ridden, Billy thinks.

"Can't understand you, Dommie," Billy whispers. "Speak up."

"Nnh… not gonna." Dom's mouth purses, puckers. He's clean-shaven; Billy can see a smudge of make-up dirt along his earlobe. Ridiculous ears, Dom has. Billy does not at all want to bite them.

"Not gonna what?" He's starting to feel ridiculous. What if Dom wakes up? Billy should really have a bowl of warm water or a tube of shaving cream at hand to explain his presence should his mate sit up, demanding to know what the hell Billy is doing.

"Not gonna nothing." The heavy brows knit and Dom shifts again. His knees fall apart and his right hand flutters then subsides. "Shut it."

Billy stifles a giggle. Dom's nipples are dark pink, and a line of dark pink from the sofa cushion runs down one pectoral and over his belly, vanishing at the waistband of his jeans. Billy has one finger lifted to trace it before he realises what he's doing, and he sits back on his heels and clenches his hands together in his lap. "You shut it," he whispers back to Dom. 

Dom's hand flutters again, slides downward and comes to rest between his thighs, and look at that, he's hard. Billy's hard, too, and if the heel of one tightly clasped hand happens to be pressing against the bulge in his own trousers, how is that a bad thing?

"Gonna tell Billy," Dom says, louder, and for an instant his face is fierce, then it relaxes again. The hand between his legs flutters and pushes down, slides along the ridge so very clearly outlined against the denim.

"Tell me what?" Billy cups his erection and squeezes, chokes back a sound. He can feel his pulse thud heavily inside the cage of his ribs, a dull knocking against his sternum. 

Dom doesn't say anything. His fingers squeeze, his palm rubs erratically along his hard-on.

Billy wonders if Dom's heartbeat is as odd and leaden as his own, and he sits up on his knees, leans forward. Just to look at his throat, at the pulsepoint, Billy thinks, I won't -

But he will. Head turned toward Dom's face, he places his ear against Dom's chest and closes his eyes to listen.

Thump-thump, thump-thump. Sounds normal. His head rises and falls with Dom's breath, and Billy knows, suddenly, that it would be easiest to sleep against this, with this rhythm beneath his hands arms neck cheek mouth chest something - that no matter how good sleeping with Dom has been, sleeping with Dom below atop between among around him would be better.

"C'mere," Dom breathes, and panic flickers and then dies in Billy's fingertips, because although Dom's voice is still slurred and asleep, his hands are most certainly awake, and his body is, too - he's shifting, pulling Billy up onto the sofa and into a Dom-shaped cradle of arms and legs and bare skin and roughsoft denim, never opening his eyes, never looking at Billy, just dragging him gently above below atop between among around himself. Billy is Dom's blanket, he understands, and so what can he do?

He surrenders and drapes himself over Dom, snuggles his head under Dom's chin and wishes he could purr to let Dom know just how nice the heavy limbs wrapped all around him feel. Billy breathes steadily and slowly, and now he doesn't have to feel scared about listening to Dom's heart beneath his ear.

Dom's hands splay flat over Billy's back and after a while his erection stops poking Billy in the stomach, and Billy's erection softens, too, and they sleep that way all night. Dom doesn't have much to say about it.

~*~

In the morning Dom wakes up with Billy's hair in his mouth and nose and a wet spot on his neck where Billy dribbled during the night. Despite the 140-pound hobbit lying atop him like a dead weight, Dom feels good. Feels better-rested than he has in a long time, in fact. The only other times he's come this close are those naps on the sofa in their trailer, and they're too short to really fill the bill. Sleeping together in Dom or Billy's bed has occasionally approached this level of good, but often they were (a) drunk and then hungover, or (b) not really quite this tucked up together, so those reposes fall short of the perfection Dom now feels he has found.

He's also horny.

Maybe Billy is, too, and with impeccable early-morning logic Dom thinks he should see whether he's correct, and if so, whether it would totally freak his best mate out if Dom began rummaging around in said best mate's pants and requested treatment in kind.

Billy may not have wanted to bite Dom's ear at all last night (or he may have thought that), but Dom has wanted to try Billy's out for months.

He runs his hands down Billy's back, over the thin cotton of a t-shirt and onto the rougher fabric of his trousers. Billy's arse feels just perfect, nicely rounded and all relaxed, and Dom cups it ever-so-affectionately, massaging slightly, squeezing lightly.

Billy's breathing shifts, hitches, stutters and then goes back to steady as his body presses closer to Dom's. One small hand worms its way between Dom's arm and ribs and stays there; his nose nuzzles deeper into Dom's neck and Billy smacks his lips. No doubt coping with all that excess saliva, Dom thinks. Billy is motionless again, inhaling and exhaling strongly, still asleep although the light filtering through the curtains tells Dom it's time for sex, or, failing that, breakfast.

Well, the snuggling was nice, but it had predictable results on Dom's crotch, and let's move things along, shall we? He continues his impromptu massage of Billy's nether regions and moves beneath him as well, pressing upward: hips, pelvis, and perky erection at the fore.

"Mmm." Billy presses back, and goodness, he's either hard or sporting a bludgeon in his khakis.

"Bills." Dom whispers it, throwing caution to the wind. The hell with it, he wants to get off, he wants Billy to get him there, he wants just as much to take Billy with him on the trip.

"Nnnh." Billy nuzzles him again; this time he lifts his head briefly - Dom gets a glimpse of a scrunched up face and one bright red cheek, an expression much like that of a cranky infant - and lays it down again facing the other way, away from the light, burrowing into Dom's shoulder and the back of the sofa. "You were talking in your sleep last night," he slurs against leather and skin.

"What'd I say?" Dom wonders if Billy simply hasn't noticed that Dom's hands are rubbing happily into his gluteus maximus. Maximii? Arse. Keep it simple, stupid.

"Said you wouldn't tell me, but you were gonna tell Billy." Billy makes a noise that might be a laugh, if his lungs weren't half-collapsed by being squashed so hard into Dom's body. "Told me to shut it."

"Huh." This is all well and good, but Dom has no idea what he was thinking, and there are more urgent matters at hand. More pressing matters, you could say. If you wanted to be a prat, which Dom doesn't so he doesn't say that. Instead: "Billy." Dom slips his hands upward and then down, under the waistband of trousers and pants this time, right onto the warm curve of Billy's bottom. "Wake up so I can wank you." It sounds nicer than _Wake up so you can wank me_ , and Dom is nothing if not politic.

"Donwannawakeup," Billy says. He's limp again (though not every bit of him fits that description), and then suddenly, though he doesn't move, he's tense. "Wha'd you say?"

Dom turns his head and drops a kiss onto Billy's hair. "I said, wake up so I can wank you." He squeezes Billy's bare arse under the twill and shoves his hips up, just to illustrate his meaning.

Billy appears to have ceased breathing altogether, and Dom becomes concerned. 

"S'okay," he says. "I want to." 

"I think I should just die of embarrassment," Billy finally replies, his voice muffled by the back of the the couch and Dom's skin.

"It's a natural function, masturbation is," Dom says. He slides his hands down further, though the trousers are beginning to be binding, and runs one finger along the cleft of Billy's arse. "No need for embarrassment."

"So… you want to wank me…?"

"I do." Dom kisses his hair again. "Other stuff I want to do, too."

Billy lifts his head to look at Dom; his face is rosy red all over, now, creased with sleep and panic and (hopefully) horniness; his eyes are bright green in the pale light, and his mouth is thin and tight. "There is? I mean, you do?"

"Yeah." Dom smiles at him; his heart trip-hammers a bit, but this is Bill, he knows just how far he can trust him, and it’s a long, long way. "Kiss me, yeah?"

Billy's mouth softens at that. "Um. Okay."

So they do. Billy's tentative, but Dom makes up for it by being too eager, if there is such a thing, and in a very short time Billy has braced himself up over Dom better and his tongue is tangled somewhere in Dom's tonsils and his hips are pressing regularly down against the regular upthrust of Dom's pelvis. They are both saying things like "Oh" and "Ah" and "Mm" (or even "Mmmmmmmmm"), and relief and lust are flooding Dom from toes to nose.

Billy pulls back slightly, panting, eyes closed. 

"Why'd you stop?" Dom says, and Billy's head thuds onto his chest as he laughs.

"Oxygen, Dominic," he says. "Us old people need it."

"Wanna get you naked and breathing hard, Bill," Dom purrs.

Billy groans and his lips curve against Dom's sternum. "Breathing harder," he corrects.

"Doing everything harder," Dom says. "Then we can eat breakfast, and then we can go back to bed."

"Okay." Billy licks Dom's chest. "But not to sleep."

"Not for a while." Dom wraps his legs around Billy's waist. 

Another groan, and Billy lifts his head to grin into Dom's mouth. "First I'm gonna get you breathing harder."

Dom licks his nose. "Then you can sleep on top of me again."

"That I can." Billy lunges upward to capture Dom's mouth again.

~*~

One day Elijah comes running onto set. He grabs Sean (Astin) and tows him toward their trailer. "Billy and Dom are sleeping together!"

Sean sighs and rolls his eyes. "Duh, Elijah," he says, and begins to turn away. 

Elijah grips his arm tightly. "No, seriously." He opens the door of the trailer and points. "Look!"

Sean looks, blanches, laughs, and then closes the door. "I wondered when they'd end up like that," he says, sinking to sit on the aluminum step up to the door. 

"What are you doing?" Elijah jiggles in front of him, fumbling for a cigarette.

"Guarding the door," Sean says. "Don't want anyone finding them like that. Though it'd be their own stupid fault if someone did," he adds. "Go get me a sandwich."

Elijah takes a drag and eyes him. "I've got a better idea."

This time when someone leans over the sleeping men and yells "Marks!" the results are much more satisfactory. Curses are spat and clothing is grabbed for, and Billy and Dom, a tangle of bare limbs and messy wigs, glare at Elijah and Sean, who are snickering loudly.

"Fuckers," Dom says with his mouth and Billy with his eyes, and they settle back again, curled together tightly, cloaks drawn over warm bodies twined together in a knot so complex only a Scout could make sense of it. Soon they're asleep, eyes closed, lips parted, hands enlaced and heartbeats slow and steady.


End file.
